


What needs to be done.

by Higgystar



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen, Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-19 01:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1449622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from the kink meme: This Sorrowful Life AU where Daryl didn't go to find Merle on his own, instead Rick followed him and helps Daryl cope with what they find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What needs to be done.

“Daryl wait!” Rick calls, trying to keep pace as the other man runs down the road, adrenaline causing the hunter to be able to outrun him. Normally Rick know they’d be on even footing, but Daryl is worried and Rick bets he probably doesn’t even notice any pain his body is in from running for so long. He needs to keep up, he tries not to lose sight of Daryl as they draw closer and closer to the meeting point, but the other man isn’t listening and most certainly isn’t slowing down.

Not for the first time in his life, Rick curses one of his bad decisions. Why in God’s name had he trusted Merle Dixon to do this? The other man was meant to have been back hours ago, but when Michonne had shown up at the gates of the prison, a sour look on her face and a few words of explanation, he knew to expect the worst. Honestly Rick didn’t even know if Daryl knew he was following him, the other man hadn’t turned back once, not giving any sign that he knew Rick was even there. No matter how much he called out, tried to get his attention and make him stop, Daryl was on a mission and was deaf to everything else.

When Daryl runs across the boundaries of the woods and into the clearing around the silo and grain house, Rick has to pause to catch his breath, hands on his knees and desperate for air. It was no short distance here, at least a few miles and Daryl hadn’t stopped the entire time. Gathering his breathe he can hear nothing, no shouts, no gunfire, and no cars. If the Governor wasn’t here then that wasn’t good, but at least they could avoid a confrontation. Spitting to the side Rick jogs over, hand on his holster and knife, ready to dive for cover if gunfire started.

He knew what they found wouldn’t be good, he had already prepared himself for the worst but knowing what was coming and watching it happen were two very different things. Sliding his gun free he holds it ready, remembering Morgan, remembering Duane and promising to not let something like that happen to Daryl. Rick doesn’t step too close, keeping his distance he watches as Merle’s reanimated form stands from the ground, blood smeared over him from his wounds and his meal, a hole in his chest and dead light in his eyes.

Glancing around for other walkers he makes sure the area is clear enough, wanting to at least give Daryl whatever he could in this moment. He hears the crossbow drop to the dirt, and a choked sob draws his attention back to his friend and in a moment he feels as if he’s seen this scene before.

Daryl crying after he explained why Merle hadn’t returned.

Daryl crying when they found Merle’s hand on the roof.

Daryl crying over Merle again.

Ducking his head, Rick feels as if he shouldn’t look, something so personal like this shouldn’t be seen by unwanted parties if possible. But he knows that if Daryl can’t do what must be done, then someone else has to. He won’t have Daryl be lost to them because neither of them were willing to do what they didn’t want to do. Stepping closer quietly he watches the scene, keeping behind Daryl and reflexively tightening the grip on his gun when Merle’s corpse lunges for the younger Dixon. He expects it to be over, for him to hear the sound of a walker’s snarls cut off in a second, but instead Daryl pushes the walker that used to be his brother away.

Tensing a little he takes another step forward, steeling himself for the possibility that Daryl really couldn’t do this and he’d have to step forward. Daryl gives another heart wrenching sob and shoves Merle back again with arms that Rick can see are trembling from here. He can feel the pain Daryl is going through and if he thought it would help he’d try to talk him through it. But Daryl is not a man that likes to admit to needing help at the best of times and right now Rick doesn’t want to be a distraction with a walker so close.

When Merle lunges again he raises his gun, making sure to have his head in sight when Daryl shoves even harder, pushing Merle back and making him growl, inhuman noises that made the scene even more wrong than it should have been. Merle lunges one last time and it seems it’s been long enough for Daryl to come to terms with what he has to do. His knife is out and stabbed into Merle’s shoulder, pinning him to the ground so Daryl can climb on top of the large walker to get a good shot at his head.

The growls are silenced with one stab and Rick has to look away when Daryl doesn’t stop.

Slowly he paces around the perimeter of the silo and storage units, putting down any walkers he finds as quietly as possible to not draw attention whilst he hears Daryl sob and try to catch his breath in the background. He gives him all the time he can, glancing over every so often to make sure the other man was still with him and not doing one of the stupid things that people could do in grief. But this would doesn’t give them the luxury of peace for long and he knows they can’t stay much longer at the risk of never getting back.

When he’s satisfied that he can move his attention away from the defence of the place and start helping Daryl he goes over, making sure to be noisy enough for the other man to know he was coming even through his distress.

The younger Dixon is sitting on the ground beside his brother’s body, just staring, tears coursing down his face and being shaken off from the occasional sob that wracks his body. His breathing is harsh and Rick knows that feeling of being so lost after losing someone you loved. Standing behind the man he holster’s his gun before crouching behind him, placing one hand on Daryl’s shoulder and lowering his head in respect. Keeping his words low he knows Daryl doesn’t do well with talking about things that are important to him, but he needs him to know this at least. “I’m sorry.”

Daryl remains frighteningly still in front of him, not even blinking to show he heard him speak. Rick wonders if he should carry on talking to try and get some response, debating if maybe leaving Daryl alone to kill a couple of dozen of walkers would help at all. Just as he opens his mouth to speak again Daryl shifts, shrugging his hand off his shoulder and turning to face him.

Rick doesn’t get a second to ask if he’s all right before he’s being tackled to the ground, Daryl on top of him and hitting wherever he could, scrabbling, pushing, slapping, punching and screaming at him throughout the tears. Bringing his arms up to defend himself Rick tries to calm him down, or at least stop him from breaking any bones for either of them. Daryl doesn’t seem to notice and continues hitting him, grabbing at his clothes and tearing them, punching hard enough to bruise some ribs and using his weight to keep Rick down.

It doesn’t take long for Rick’s training to kick in and somehow in all the struggling he manages to grab at Daryl’s wrist, getting one arm immobile and shifting their bodies until he can almost get an advantage. He doesn’t particularly want to hurt Daryl right now, but he can’t afford not to right now. Shoving his fingers at Daryl’s side he knows he catches his side beneath the ribs, jabbing him there enough to cause distress and give him the moment to push Daryl off of him.

Moving quickly to his feet he’s ready when Daryl jumps at him again, shoving and hitting whilst spitting curses in his face. Grabbing at Daryl’s wrists again Rick manages to get them both this time, gripping Daryl tightly to stop the punches from being anywhere near as dangerous as they were when he had all his force behind them. Now he wasn’t being subjected to quite as much abuse, he can hear the words between Daryl’s sobs, harsh and choked as the other man continues to try and hit at his chest.

“’s all your fault! You fucked it up, you fucked everythin’ up!” Daryl screams, tears decorating his words and spattering to his chest with every wrench of his body. “Weren’t meant to be like this! Stupid fuckin’ cop screwing everythin’ up and ruinin’ everything!”

The hits are getting less and less every time, Daryl succumbing to sobs and his chest hitching between each breath like he was finding it hard to remember how to breathe. Rick doesn’t interrupt, he lets Daryl have this moment, ignoring how his ribs and side ache from the earlier hits and instead listening to the way Daryl’s accent gets thicker when he’s upset.

“Fuck you!” He continues screaming in his face, eyes tightly shut as if none of this was real if he didn’t have to look. “If you hadn’t never been here then none of this would’ve happened. You had to come and fuck everythin’ up and lose Merle an’ then…an’ then when I just got ‘im back…” Daryl stumbles over his words and the hits slow to pathetic smacks against his chest, barely even there until they stop and Daryl’s just stood before him.

For a moment there’s nothing more than the sound of Daryl trying to catch his breath, barely able to. Rick holds his wrists still, but his grip is a little tighter, just holding Daryl there for the moment. “It’s all your fault he’s gone.” Daryl continues, not so much yelling now, but still showing every bit as much distress with every word. “Was your fault the first time an’ it’s your fault now Rick! You ain’t fuckin’ sorry! None of you never liked him, you never gave ‘im a chance and now he ain’t ever comin’ back!”

Daryl’s shaking, shoulders heaving up and down as he tries to breathe between sobs, his chin trembling against his chest and small hiccups of pain issuing forth every so often. Keeping his grip firm Rick takes half a step closer, and deliberately doesn’t say anything when Daryl’s head drops to rest his forehead on his collar bone. The smaller man coughs and snorts out his misery, and soon enough Rick doesn’t have to hold his wrists anymore, instead letting go when Daryl clings to his shirt desperately. The remain that way for a while, Rick just letting Daryl do as he needed for a moment without any need for shame, he didn’t hold him or touch him as he would anyone else, he just allowed Daryl to take whatever contact he needed at his own pace.

When Daryl shifts to face the corpse on the ground, Rick wonders if he needs to restrain him again, but gives him the chance to do whatever he needs to do. Cuffing his snotty nose on his wrist, Daryl paces besides the body, not looking at the bloody smear that had been Merle’s face, but focussing on his chest as if he were talking to the bullet wound beneath the red.

“You stupid fuck!” Daryl yells, hands moving up to yank at his own hair, seemingly unsure what else to do with them. Kicking at the ground near Merle’s leg, Daryl paces frantically, hiccupping and tugging on his hair. “You…you should’ve said no! You should’ve never gone to Atlanta in the first place!”

When he moves to kick at Merle’s body Rick moves to grab him, wrapping his arms over the top of Daryl’s and pinning them down, keeping him gripped around the waist and chest to stop him from doing something he’d regret. “Always fuckin’ goin’ off without me and then that’s when shit like this happens!” Daryl continues yelling, his voice growing hoarse with each word. “Could’ve fuckin’ done somethin’ if you’da said, could’ve gone with you to Atlanta, could’ve fucking stayed with me and not left me on my own again Merle you stupid fuck!”

Daryl’s voice rises to a shout on the last few words before he crumples to the ground, Rick following suite until they’re both in the dirt again. Pressing his forehead to the dip between Daryl’s shoulder blades, Rick can feel the fabric of the angel wings against his cheeks as he speaks, keeping his voice low and calm, to give Daryl something that wasn’t so fragile right now.

“You ain’t alone.”

He holds him all the tighter when Daryl’s trembling intensifies, hiccups and sobs wracking his frame as they kneel beside his dead brother. Rick knows what the older Dixon had done for them. He’d seen the corpses around the silo, the majority of the adult men from Woodbury slaughtered before they knew it, the most capable fighters destroyed before the battle could even begin. The man had done all he could to give them a fighting chance; to give Daryl a chance to survive.

In his arms Daryl cries, his eyes red and body aching, sagging back against Rick until he’s fairly certain he’s the only thing keeping the other man upright. The world is silent around them, the world continuing to turn despite everything that had happened today. He’s not sure how long they sit there, Daryl’s grief become more controlled until there were no more sobs wracking his body. Rick continues holding him anyway, his fingers stroking in tiny circles over Daryl’s side and just giving as much comfort as he could whilst Daryl needed it.

Turning his head to rest his cheeks against Daryl’s shoulder blade he can see Merle’s foot in the grass, still and lifeless. It was true that he’d never liked the other man, Merle Dixon was the type of guy he locked up to keep others safe and the thought of him being near anyone he cared about was disturbing. At points he’d even questioned whether he was Daryl’s brother. The two of them were like chalk and cheese. Over time Daryl had proven himself to be loyal, caring and a member of their family as much as Rick himself was. The Merle he’d met recently had been the same Merle that he’d cuffed to a roof.

He couldn’t imagine this man having ever been anything nearing a good influence on Daryl, Merle Dixon seemed to only ever look out for number one, Rick knew the type. Now here he was, sitting beside his rotting corpse and silently wondering if Merle could hear his prayers of thanks from wherever he was. They had a chance because of this man and he’d be damned if he was going to let that be forgotten.

Slowly he relaxes his grip around Daryl, and when the other man doesn’t seem bothered by the loss of contact he stands up to do what needs to be done. Keeping alert he heads into the storage unit and grabs on of the sheets covering the bins of grain, moving to the car he’d noted was in decent condition when he’d taken down the walkers. Judging from the empty bottle of whiskey this had been what Merle had used to get here so it should work. Hooking his fingers beneath the console he grabs the two wires there and gets the car started, pulling up as near to where Daryl still sat beside Merle’s body as he could.

Leaving the engine running Rick opens up the trunk, moving to lower the backseats and give more space for what he wanted to do. Daryl was watching him quietly but not giving any indication of wanting to help. Rick could understand that, but sooner or later he was going to need a hand when it came to moving Merle. As gently as he can he wraps the sheet around Merle’s body, making sure not to catch or tear it on his prosthetic, keeping it tight and ignoring the hints of red that already begin to seep through the fabric.

Staying crouched by the body he doesn’t want to force Daryl to do anything he doesn’t want to, but daylight was running out and they both knew what that meant. No matter how upset Daryl was he wouldn’t want his brother’s body out here to be destroyed by walkers, not like what had happened to L-

Merle deserved more than that for what he’d done for them. Slowly and careful not to lose the sheet covering the body, Rick slips his arms beneath where Merle’s shoulders would be, figuring that if Daryl wasn’t going to help then this was the most dignified way of doing this. Glancing up when Daryl moves Rick thinks for a moment he’s going to get another punch, that Daryl was going to start yelling about him touching his brother or something. Instead the man steps away a few paces, fingers running up to yank on his hair again, clearly on edge and lost.

Slowly Rick begins dragging the body towards the trunk of the car, allowing Daryl to ignore this if he needed to, he just knew neither of them were going to be leaving Merle here. It takes a lot of effort and almost all of his strength, but Rick manages to get Merle’s torso in the trunk and just when he’s about to release his hold to move and get his feet, Daryl steps into view again. The younger Dixon takes his brother’s feet and though he doesn’t say anything Rick can see the pain there when their eyes meet. Nodding slightly he works with Daryl to make sure the body is fully inside the back of the car before moving to close the trunk.

Daryl says nothing but moves to the passenger side, climbing in the car and snapping the door shut with force. Glancing around the area once more Rick catches his breath from the effort of shifting the body and glances back to the car before moving to where Merle had been lying. An empty whiskey bottle smashed against the ground from where it had been thrown viciously out of the car window.

Not bringing up the bottle Rick climbs into the driver’s side, silently passing the crossbow over to its rightful owner from where he’d picked it up off the floor. He knows Daryl isn’t really with him when he doesn’t take it immediately. Instead Rick places it on Daryl’s lap and starts driving them back up the road towards the prison.

The drive is quiet, Daryl shifting to kick his feet up on the dashboard and Rick is relieved when he moves to hold the crossbow properly against his chest. It’s a small sign, but it’s enough to give him hope.

When the prison is in view he can sense Daryl tense beside him and he slows the car to a crawl as they approach. “What is it?” Daryl shrugs, picking at the crossbow before shifting to chew on his thumbnail in a habit that Rick had come to understand as being one of unease. Stopping the car he holds up a hand to Carl and Glenn on the gate, letting them know everything was fine and to just wait for a moment. Turning to Daryl he gives him his full attention, trying to notice any little tell that Daryl might give. “Daryl?”

“Merle never liked prison.”

Rick pauses, letting his head hang for a moment before glancing at the backseat and to the man who deserved to lie in peace. Running his fingers through his hair he knows they don’t have the luxury of choice for this, but he also doesn’t want to force the matter if Daryl doesn’t want it. “But he loved you.” Rick tells him, voice soft and trying not to add pressure to this decision. “And he’d want to be near you if he could.”

Daryl takes a shaky breath and turns to stare out of the window, the fingers on his crossbow hold a little tighter and Rick watches for any kind of answer he can get. It takes a few seconds but after reaching up to wipe away a few stray tears Daryl gives a jerky nod and Rick drives them in through the gates. It’s the least he can do after being the one to separate them in the first place.

And even if Merle Dixon was too busy causing chaos wherever he was now to listen, Rick offered him a silent promise to protect his little brother as well as he could.


End file.
